


Not Your Divine Right

by Ragnild



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragnild/pseuds/Ragnild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the big arc reactor at Stark Industries blows up, Tony Stark is transported to Asgard, the reactor's energy beam having served as a bridge. He is found, close to death and no mortal has ever seen Asgard before. Punishment is imminent, but Tony won't go down without a fight and Loki won't go down without learning more of this mortal man.  AU around the end of the first Iron Man film.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The story will eventually be Tony/Loki. The story becomes AU at the end of the first Iron Man film.

Tony had a hard time understanding why Obadiah was trying to kill him. Sure, his head knew that the man was a greedy motherfucker that wanted to take over his company and needed Tony out of the way, but his heart couldn’t quite come to terms with that concept just yet. He’d known the man his whole life and he’d been like a father to Tony after his parents had passed away. 

Currently, he was hanging from the support beams of the ceiling, just above the big arc reactor in Sector 16, where Obadiah had built his own suit. Pepper had rushed to the controls and was frantically pushing buttons and flicking levers for the thing to go into overload. His own suit was a total loss; his helmet had been torn away, one of his gauntlets was missing and everything else was dented and in some places even cracked and he had trouble just keeping himself from falling. 

“Now, Pepper!” He yelled, when Obadiah started shooting again while laughing like a maniac. “But you told me not to when you were up there!” Came the panicked reply, and Tony had to admire her loyalty, but now was not the time to think of his well being. He needed to get away from the other man and the only way to do it was to blow up the reactor. The irony of blowing up the reactor wasn’t entirely lost on him, since his own was about to give out as well, but at least he would take out that son of a bitch as well. “Just do it Pep!” He yelled again, and from the ground came an extremely worried sounding “Okay.” 

He heard the angry hum of the reactor as soon as Pepper pushed the button and before he knew it, a bright bluish-white light shot up out of the thing. As soon as the light hit him, his breath was lodged in his throat and his blood was on fire. His own reactor felt as though it would explode out of his chest and the pain of it was excruciating. He screamed and it felt like a million years before he lost consciousness. 

\--- --- ---

He was angry, no, perhaps angry was not the best word for it. He was more than angry, he was livid. He was absolutely furious but did not want to show it. He was in the company of Thor and the Warrior’s Three and they were amused over something Thor had said. He smiled, just for the sake of appearance, but he did not much enjoy their company. There was always something visceral about their interactions with him, as though they could not forgive or forget any of his past … undertakings. It was of little consequence however, as he would let them all suffer when the time was right. He had irons in many fires and his time would surely come, quite soon in fact. 

“I fear I must take my leave of you, brother.” He said, but addressed the entire group and not only his brother. Thor frowned a bit at that. “Are you off to spend more time with your books, brother? I assure you, they will not change in the time you do not spend reading.” Loki grinned a slightly toothy grin at the blond man. “Indeed, yet I do believe that gaining knowledge is also a worthy pursuit, Thor. So I bid you a good day.” The others, thankfully did not object his departure and soon he was on his way to his chambers, contemplating on other ways to spend his time. 

It had been quite a while since he had simply used his time to practice spellwork. He had consumed a fair number of new books in between now and his last session, so it might well pay off to study some of the newer spells he had read about. Magic did not teach itself, after all. He changed the direction he was heading in and decided to go to one of the almost forgotten gardens. This garden was one of the few places he enjoyed visiting. It had a wild and untamed look about it, yet here he cultivated ingredients needed for his potions, poisons and certain spells. The other Aesir were more interested in using the training grounds, physical strength usually being their forte, but not he and so this garden was his, something for which he was secretly grateful. 

As he approached his destination, a beam of light shot up from the ground so bright it blinded him and he stumbled for a moment. When the light subsided and his had regained his vision sufficiently, he could see a figure lying where previously the beam of light had shot up. He stepped closer, cautiously, a debilitating spell on his lips should the other prove hostile. A man and he was wearing a red and gold colored strange metal suit. The suit, which appeared to be an armor of some kind was badly damaged and parts of it were missing. The man was still unconscious, but was slowly waking up. He could tell from the technology used to craft the armor that it was most likely Midgardian in make, for not one of the other nine realms had anything close to such a craftsmanship that was not magical. 

A groan escaped the mortal lying on the ground and suddenly Loki’s anger flared again. It was bad enough that he had to deal with cretins such as Thor and the Warrior’s Three each and every day, but now a mortal, a mortal, had found its way into Asgard and this was not how it was supposed to be. When the man opened his eyes, he stepped into the other’s field of vision. “I do not know how you came to be here, Midgardian, but no mortal man has ever set foot on the hallowed grounds of Asgard. You shall be taken before the All-father and shall be punished gravely.” He all but hissed. He would hurt the mortal if he could, but he did not wish to incur the wrath of Odin upon himself. “Wait, wha—” Was the only thing the man could say, before Loki had him magically bound, gagged and ready to be taken to the All-father. Perhaps watching the mortal being punished would be somewhat satisfactory and then they set off.


	2. Chapter 1: Those who are Judged

Before they had traveled even half the distance to the All-father’s grand hall, the mortal staggered and collapsed. It seemed that the damage the Midgardian had sustained was more serious than Loki had initially expected and if he wanted the man to receive his rightful punishment, he would have to be fit to walk at the very least. He gave a soft grunt as he levitated the man to his private chambers to heal the most debilitating of wounds. Had the man been Aesir, he would have taken him to the surgeon’s chambers, but as it stood, the man was not worthy of this. Loki was certain that a healing spell or potion would likely suffice for what he had in mind though. 

While one could argue that the bodies of Midgardians were quite similar to those of the Aesir, there were some fundamental differences. The most important of these differences was that although there were similarities, especially outward ones, Midgardian physiology was just much weaker. He did not want to put the mortal on his bed lest he sully it and so he settled for levitating him onto the cushioned bench in front of the window in the other room where he did much of his reading. 

Loki had a thirst for knowledge and because of this there were many bookcases overflowing with books around the room, except for one corner of that room where a workbench stood. It was littered with various instruments such as a set of small knives, differently sized pestles and mortars and a set of silver scales amongst other things. There were glass and crystal vials, some empty some filled with strange and exotic ingredients that he used for his potions and spells. He had a set of differently sized cauldrons stored under his workbench which he had not had to use for a while yet. This room was his other safe haven; Thor and his foolish friends knew better than to come in here. He would not be disturbed while healing the mortal.

A century or so ago, he had spent some of his time on Midgard, studying its mortals. He had come to the conclusion that they truly were insignificant, worthless, pathetic creatures. His visit had served his purposes well enough however, and he had learned more than he had liked. Disgusting creatures. Now the knowledge proved useful though and he muttered a quick spell under his breath. In moments the man was encased in a softly glowing golden light which soon told Loki what ailed the mortal.

A metal tube, with a device of some sort inserted into it, in the man’s chest was the first thing that stood out to him. Odd though this was, it was not the source of the man’s sudden fainting. Metal shards surrounded the man’s heart and they were slowly but steadily making their way into the organ, causing the most immediate distress. He would have to do something about it and fast. He deftly wove a temporary net of protective spells around the mortal’s heart. It should keep the shards out until he found a more permanent solution at least. He would not bother with finding a solution of a more permanent nature until the mortal’s fate had been decided. It was extremely likely that the All-father would wish to know how exactly the man had come to be in Asgard, in which case, Loki’s ways of gaining intelligence would be of use. He also healed some of the mortal’s other, more serious wounds, which could pose a problem if left untended. It took the man an additional hour to regain consciousness. He had had to remove his magical bonds in order for the healing spells to do their work. A groan escaped the mortal’s lips and he sat up. He blinked slowly and looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. He noticed Loki, who was watching him with a look of disdain on his face. 

“Who the hell are you and where the fuck am I?” the mortal asked, seemingly outraged. He must be remembering Loki’s previous actions of bounding and gagging him. 

“Hold your vile tongue mortal, lest I bind and gag you again.” He replied icily. “You have no right to speak to me in such a way for I am Loki of Asgard. You should be humbled by my mere presence.”

However, the mortal did not heed his warnings and spoke up again. “Loki of the what now? Ass-guard? What the hell kind of name is that? Is this some kind of sick, elaborate joke or something? Because I’m pretty sure that if you keep this charade up, you can make friends with my lawyers.” 

The man tried to intimidate Loki by sounding menacing and he would not stand for it that this vile, wretched creature spoke to him so. In a blink of the mortal’s eye he was next to the other man, holding a small but wicked looking curved blade against the mortal’s throat, pressing ever so lightly, drawing a small amount of blood. “Speak another word and I shall cut out your tongue and feed it to the All-father’s wolves.” He moved the blade up slowly and with less pressure, until it reached the man’s cheek. Here he pressed down again, causing a shallow but painful gash that would serve to remind the man that his words were not in jest. 

Slowly he moved back and glared at the man. “You have invaded Asgard and for this you shall be brought before the council of the All-father and be sentenced for your trespassing.” He stood up and motioned at the mortal to do the same. “You will now follow me of your own free will or I shall bind you and you will be forced to follow.” 

The man had a hostile look on his face, yet he had no choice but to follow Loki through the many hallways of the palace. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as his disdain for the mortal was almost palpable. A few times it looked as though the man was going to speak, yet he seemed to rethink this and held his tongue. Loki had not paid much attention to the man’s drawn, almost gaunt appearance as he had assumed it had been due to the mortal’s many wounds. Yet, even though many of the wounds had been healed, the man still looked extremely worn out as though he had been on the brink of death more than once in the past few days. It would likely make the challenge of extracting information almost nonexistent, which was a pity as he had been looking forward to it. 

They reached a large set of golden doors with a guard station on either side. The mortal looked nervous now; it was as though he had failed to notice the armed guards that had been stationed along their route and had only realized their presence just now. This situation, confusing though it likely was for the man, was slowly sinking in and Loki could see it on his face.

“I shall now take you before the All-father. He is expecting us.” He said somewhat haughtily. The two guards in front of them then opened the doors, which led into the All-father’s hall where he held court. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the hall in spectacular ways, the All-father’s golden throne catching the eye immediately. From that throne he could see all of Asgard and thus his reign was absolute. Perhaps the only person that knew how to hide anything from his father was Loki himself, being a master of magic. He did not speak of this and the All-father did not know. The magnificent hall was empty save for his father and his father’s most trusted advisers. The current situation was serious enough to warrant a complete absence of the court’s usual populace, only the ones that needed to be in attendance present in the large room. Absolute silence hung in the air as Loki strode in solemnly with the mortal in tow. The guards closed the doors behind them. 

“Father, I bring before you the mortal who has found his way onto these hallowed grounds.” Loki said with a small but theatrical bow. The only sound in the room came from the man’s slight shuffling behind him and Loki knew that he must surely be afraid now. The All-father and his companions looked at them and after a moment his father spoke.

“You stand accused of entering Asgard, our realm, without having acquired our permission to do so prior to your arrival. What say you to this, mortal?” His father’s voice sounded grave and for a moment Loki feared that if the mortal confirmed this accusation, he would be sentenced to death.

He could see the mortal’s face flash with indignation and the wish to speak, something vulgar likely on the tip of his tongue, yet again he seemed to think the better of it and simply answered: “Sure.” 

“You are aware it is forbidden for mortal men to tread the paths of Asgard?” Loki looked between the mortal and his father. 

“Nope. I didn’t.” The man supplied, and gave a small cough. “I didn’t even know where I was and –” 

“Hold your tongue mortal!” Loki snapped. “You speak only when spoken to.” But the All-father waved a hand at Loki so as to silence him. He bit his tongue, irritated.

“I would hear the mortal speak.” His father said and motioned at the man to continue speaking his mind.

“Okay.” The man said, “I had no idea where the hell I was and I’ve never heard of Asgard before. The last thing I remember is being beat up by a fat guy in a metal suit and I seriously thought I was dying. The next thing you know, I’m lying on the ground in fucking fairyland, no offense by the way, and that guy,” He points at Loki, “dragged me off to, I assume here but I passed out along the way.” He shrugged and then continued: “I should be dead right now.”He tried to sound nonchalant, but Loki caught the surprise in his words; it was as though it had just occurred to him that the wounds he had received had been fatal. 

“Indeed.” Loki said, “I healed your wounds.” The words tasted foul on his tongue. “It is not for me to decide what happens to you, mortal. Your faith is in the hands of the All-father now.” His father nodded at him, approving. This surprised Loki, he had after all only acted as any of them would have and he smiled a little grimly. 

“My son is right, your faith is in my hands. I wish to know how you made your way here.” He said gravely, “This situation is unprecedented and I will need all the circumstances from before and of your arrival.” 

“I think I made clear that I didn’t know how I got here.” The mortal replied, looking somewhat annoyed. The All-father’s expression became harsher at the man’s reply.

“Are you unwilling to divulge the information that we ask of you?” He asked, staring the mortal down.

“Nope, like I said: I seriously don’t know how I ended up here.” 

“I see.” His father looked at the mortal, considering his words. “Very well, for now, you are to stay here until you are able to share the information of your arrival. You shall be questioned until you remember and if you are disinclined to divulge this information perhaps we might be forced to use more … persuasive methods of questioning.” His glare had hardened and the mortal looked nervous under the small veneer of confidence he was trying to show. His acting skills were almost impressive for such a puny creature.

“This will be all.” He said to Tony. “Guards, strip the mortal of his armor and escort him to a room. It seems he will be our guest for some time yet.” Loki full well knew that the ‘room’ the All-father was talking about only contained the basest necessities and would be guarded day and night. 

The man was taken from the hall by two guards and Loki waited so he could speak with the All-father himself. 

“Loki, is there something else that requires my attention?” he was asked after his father had finished deliberating with his advisers. 

“Indeed father.” He said and smiled, “I wish to study the mortal’s armor. It was different from when I last had the … misfortune of visiting Midgard.” Odin regarded him silently for a moment.

“Do you believe it will be of use? Very well, we have no need of it, should you find anything of interest however, I would urge you to share this information. Perhaps it can be of use when we question him.” Loki bowed at his father’s generosity. 

“Thank you, father. Please call for me should you be in need of … assistance.” And then he was dismissed from the hall, the All-father and his advisors continuing their deliberation of what else could be done. 

Loki did not see any other ways to handle this issue other than questioning the Midgardian and finding out how the mortal had made his way into Asgard. Studying the armor would likely help in this and he set off for his chambers, his thirst for knowledge yet again unquenchable.


	3. Chapter 2: How the mighty are Falling

Tony was led from the hall by two big, burly guys in weird outfits. It was like the entire population doing some weird science fiction tech Viking cosplay or something and where was it that they said he was again? Asgard? He’d never heard of the place before, aside from maybe one of the books his nanny used to read to him. He could vaguely remember her telling him fantastical stories about Norse deities, but seriously, this couldn’t be that place, could it? 

He got dragged to a room that was stripped bare except for the necessities. The walls and ceiling were a strange mix of grey and brown and seemed to be made of some sort of metal. There was a low wooden bed in one corner. It was slightly broader and longer than a regular single bed, but that wasn’t very surprising considering the height and girth of most Asgardians that he’d seen today. There was a small opening in the wall next to the bed, where he could look outside onto a courtyard. 

‘Huh, guess these guys don’t believe in windows.’ He thought to himself as he looked outside. What seemed to be warriors were sparring outside, the sound of metal clashing with metal and boisterous laughter easily drifting through the open ‘window’ into his room. 

He turned back, facing the inside of the room again. There was one plain looking wooden chair propped up in a corner and Tony had the feeling it hadn’t been put there for his benefit. In another corner was a chamber pot. A honest-to-god fucking chamber pot. It seemed these guys didn’t believe in indoor plumbing either. It was that, or they just sufficiently disliked him to put him in such a basic, primitive room.

‘Though, it could have been worse,’ he mused, ‘they could have locked me in a cell.’ It wasn’t a pleasant thought and he was somewhat grateful that his new ‘prison’ wasn’t some dank cave. He didn’t know if he would have been able to handle that for a second time. He moved over to the bed and flopped down on it. The thing had a thin, slightly scratchy blanket, but at least the pillow was decent. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. 

He should have been dead by now. That crazy guy. Loki? He’d said that he had healed Tony’s wounds. It was probably true; he couldn’t feel any of the larger cuts where Obadiah had blasted his suit apart anymore, and all that pretty much remained were some scrapes and bruises. But what about the arc reactor? 

There was no way that Loki had found a different way to keep the shards from entering his heart. He didn’t hear or feel the slight buzz from the reactor in his chest though, and it just felt wrong. He sat up and opened the top of his under suit. When he looked down, the reactor was dark and cold. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and scrambled off the bed quickly to empty the contents of it into the chamber pot.

When he was done heaving, he wiped a hand across his mouth and slumped on the floor. He still felt sick, but he wouldn’t be able to throw up again at least. He looked at his chest again. The reactor was still the same as before; unlit and silent. He noticed something else now though; on the skin around the reactor was wound a string of words in green ink. The writing looked like runes of some sort and Tony didn’t understand what it said. 

Shit, he felt sick. Dread was pooling in the pit of his stomach at the realization that that crazy guy might very well be the one keeping him alive, and a slight sheen of sweat was now covering him. Where the fuck was this place? How had he gotten here? Was Pepper alright? Had Obadiah survived the blast of the big reactor? Too many questions were racing around in his mind. He crawled back over to the bed and collapsed on it again. After a moment his exhaustion finally overtook him and he was out like a light. 

\--- --- ---

He woke up to the door opening. A guard carrying a pail of water, soap and a package stepped inside. The man stared a little at Tony a she put the stuff he was carrying in the corner with the chair. It was like he was an animal in a cage at the zoo. One of those animals that people rarely, if ever, got to see and the open curiosity was obvious on the guard’s face.

“What are you looking at, Sven?” Tony asked angrily, using the first Scandinavian sounding name he could think of. He’d sat up and was now frowning at the guard. “Never seen a mortal before?”

The guard didn’t answer and left the room again, still keeping an eye on Tony as he did so. Tony watched as the guard stepped out of the room again and locked the door. Suddenly he was feeling very angry, though he kept his movements calm when he got up and walked over to where the guard had just been, so he could inspect the package the other had left him.

The contents of the package were a flannel like thing, what seemed to be a towel and a change of clothing. The clothes proved to be a simple brown tunic, a white long sleeved shirt, a pair of linen pants and a pair of simple shoes. It all looked like it belonged in the Middle Ages, but he wouldn’t complain; it was a big step up from the filthy, torn and bloody under suit he was currently wearing.

Keeping one eye on the door, he undressed and started scrubbing himself clean. His movements were short, purposeful and angry. When he was done he felt at least somewhat better and he left the pail, now filled with filthy murky looking water, where the guard had placed it. Then he got dressed as fast as he could. It seemed like these guys didn’t believe in underwear, great, just what he needed. Contrary to popular belief, he did actually dress decently most of the time, and that included wearing underwear. 

It took him longer than he had liked to actually properly get into the clothes, and then he felt like he was going to a costume party. It was fucking ridiculous. He took another look around the room. It still had the same smooth, weird metal walls as before and like earlier, even though he’d been extremely confused, hell, he was still confused, he saw no way out. The window was too small and high up from the ground to climb out of and the room had no other weaknesses whatsoever that he could see. He sighed, losing some of his anger and grabbed the chair from the corner. He put it in front of the window and looked out onto the courtyard. The warriors were fighting again. 

A black haired woman was beating the crap out of a guy that wouldn’t have looked out of a place as an extra for a Lord of the Rings movie. He was shorter than the woman, about three or four times her width and he had a pretty wild beard going on. There was another, extremely serious looking guy watching them. He didn’t cheer, like the other onlookers, or did much of anything except from seemingly giving some pointers every now and then. Man, that guy sure looked like a stick in the mud to Tony.

He continued to watch the fighting for a little while longer. Then, from around the corner came a tall muscley blond guy with a giant hammer. Tony smirked a little as he wondered if that thing was compensation for anything. It had to be compensation for something, why else would anybody carry such a thing around otherwise? Oh, and look who big-blond-and-compensating had brought along. Tall-dark-and-crazy didn’t seem at all happy to be there, but the blond guy just laughed loudly over the other’s protests and slapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder. His expression was definitely annoyed from what Tony could see. And what was up with that helmet? Horns? Seriously? He didn’t get these guys’ fashion sense. Whatever, it didn’t matter though. He should pay more attention to the fighting. He’d found that you could learn a lot about another person by watching him or her move, and it would be extremely useful to him if he learned any of the techno Viking’s weak spots. 

When he looked back to the woman and Gimli, for lack of a better name, their fight seemed to have finished and they were paying rapt attention to the blond guy and Loki. The two argued quietly for a minute, he could tell it was arguing thanks to the short annoyed motions they both were making, and then they moved to opposite sides of the courtyard, ready to spar. 

Loki had taken out what looked like an ordinary wooden staff. The blond guy twirled his hammer two or so times before gripping it firmly and charging at the dark haired man. As soon as the blond guy reached Loki, he disappeared into thin air, only to reappear behind the other man and tapped him on the head with his staff. The blond guy whirled around, hammer on collision course with Loki’s head. The blow was dodged as Mr. Horny-Helmet stepped back and disappeared again. 

“Stop playing these games, Loki!” Hammer guy bellowed. Tony thought he was starting to look pretty annoyed. All that answered him was a slightly, to Tony’s ears, maniacal sounding laugh, before six Lokis sprang out of nowhere and started attacking their opponent. They all laughed at the same time when the blond man gave an angry roar.

What the fuck? There were now six Lokis. Six. How was this even possible? Had they put him on drugs or something? No, the duplicates seemed too real to him and he didn’t know what to think anymore. Tony was pretty damn sure his eyes bugged out a little as he continued to watch the fight. 

“You wished to spar, brother.” One of the Lokis said, as another swiped at Hammer guy’s feet. So that guy was Loki’s brother? Tony couldn’t see the resemblance, though this guy did kind of look like the ‘All-father’. Maybe Loki took more after his mother then, he mused. 

“You know this is not how I wished to battle, brother!” came the reply, and all the Lokis just laughed in their opponent’s face again. “I do what I want, Thor.” Just one of them replied and then they all charged at Thor together, with their staves raised. They all tried to hit their brother somewhere else and Captain Hammer there did a pretty decent job of fending off most of the attack. Two of the blows managed to get through though, and Tony could hear a grunt of either pain or frustration. Thor started spinning the hammer around extremely fast and somehow threw it in a curve, hitting his brother and all the clones in the head, knocking them down on their asses. Loki’s face went from grinning to annoyed in about a second flat and he and his duplicates quickly got up again, only to launch another futile attack. Again they got knocked around and two of the duplicates disappeared.

The other three that had been sparring before had now been joined by a smug looking man with a goatee, and they, aside from Mr. Stick-in-the-mud, were cheering for Thor to win.

“I do not understand why you always insist on sparring with Loki, Thor.” The woman called out. “He never fights like a true Aesir. You and I should spar next. I shall give you a proper match!” The goateed man and Gimli guffawed at this.

Tall-dark-and-crazy, for a second, looked like somebody had killed his pet dragon or something, before he got a murderous glint in his eyes. The duplicates disappeared entirely and he tried to attack his brother from behind. Thor had seen this move coming though and hit Loki smack dab in the chest with his hammer, once again making Loki sail through the air and then crash to the ground. Instead of staying still though, Thor moved after Loki and dumped the hammer onto the other’s chest. For some reason Loki didn’t, or couldn’t, move it and he stayed where he was, his eyes spitting fire. 

The crowd that had formed mostly consisted of hardy looking warrior types, though some pretty women had also joined in on the cheering earlier, were now laughing heartily at Thor’s victory, and thus, Loki’s defeat. The downed man’s entire posture screamed ‘I will get you all for this’ and then his brother had the good sense to remove the hammer. He offered Loki a hand, which the man didn’t take, and then shrugged to his four friends, who had seen this thing play out from the start. One of them made an unkind looking gesture in Loki’s direction. The dark haired man still had a murderous look on his face and it was clear that he’d had enough. Loki had stood up and was now stalking away from the courtyard. The ruckus then quickly died down as the crowd dispersed.

“You must not be so hard on my brother, Lady Sif, you know as well as I do that this is hard for him, yet he tries so hard…” The sentence trailed off a little and then Tony couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation as Thor and his companions also moved away from the courtyard. 

He figured he’d seen enough of the fighting now anyway. He didn’t understand how Loki had duplicated himself, or how Thor’s hammer could be thrown and then would return to him, like a boomerang would. Was he on another planet or something? Was this an alternate universe? Maybe he was on the good drugs and was hallucinating. But that cut Loki’d given him earlier felt pretty damn real still and shit, were these guys the actual fucking Norse gods? This was insane.

His mind reeled a little and he put the chair back in the corner, instead opting to lie down on the bed again. He had no idea how long he actually lay there, his mind still spinning and running in circles about what had happened in the courtyard earlier, when for the second time that day, his door opened. 

This time it was Loki who stepped into the room, and Tony had the feeling he wasn’t going to be happy when this visit was over; Loki still had a manic glint in his eyes, even as he looked around the room disapprovingly. 

The first thing to actually leave Tony’s mouth was probably also the worst possible thing that he could have said: “So I heard you got your ass handed to you by your brother today…” 

Within seconds Loki had a knife to his throat again and hissed at him: “Give me one good reason why I should not let you experience excruciating pain and then leave your broken body here, festering and rotting, until you die?” 

“Because daddy-dearest hasn’t decided what to do with me yet? It would be really uncool if you killed me before that.” The blade pressed a little closer and Tony could feel a small amount of blood run down his throat. Well shit, this was definitely going to be a fun little visit.


	4. Chapter 3: You will pay for your Crimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I had meant to get this done sooner, but some things got the better of me. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter regardless though.

His ego had been bruised from the earlier loss against his brother during their ‘friendly’ sparring match, and now, this mortal mentioned his defeat so carelessly. He spoke of the All-father’s wishes and Loki could not deny his father’s demands. Yet, as long as the mortal did not expire, Loki did have a certain freedom over how he gained his information from the cretin. He would make good use of it.

The mortal man swallowed and Loki pressed the blade a little harder into the man’s skin. “What is your name, mortal, for I wish to know who it is that I am breaking.” He grinned cruelly. A few drops of blood seeped from where the blade was biting into the mortal’s skin.

“Well, tough luck there, buster, ‘cause I’m not telling.” came the reply. A low, angry growl formed in the back of Loki’s throat. 

“Are you certain this is how you wish to play this game, mortal?” All he received was a defiant look. How typical, that such a being thought to be able to withstand the pain Loki could cause him. “So be it.” He grinned and slid the blade down slowly. After a few muttered words, the mortal’s shirt and tunic vanished, exposing the soft skin of his chest, as well as the strange device that had been placed there. He kept the pressure on the blade as it moved down from the man’s neck to the metal rim of the device, marring the skin.

He drew the blade away and ran a thumb over the length of the cut, irritating the wound. The mortal’s eyes had narrowed and a low hiss escaped the man’s mouth.

“Tell me what I wish to know,” Loki said again, his eyes on the man’s face. He moved to pull away slowly, and then, quick as lighting he lashed out, pushing the knife under the mortal’s skin on his side. Now, the man did make a pained sound, earning a smirk from Loki. There was no way this mortal man would be able to withstand the pain for prolonged periods of time. He moved the knife again and this time the mortal spoke.

“I’m not gonna tell you anything, pretty boy,” he rasped. Loki just raised an eyebrow at him.

“You are making a mistake. It would all be so much easier if you just told me what I wished to know.” Then the man actually growled at him and Loki had to laugh at this ferocity. The mortal was just as foolhardy as his brother, a trait that Loki did not appreciate. He pulled the knife from the man’s skin and looked at the blood that now coated the blade. “I can smell the fear on you.” he told the man, leaning a little closer. “You are pathetic.” Voice low, he slid a hand into the mortal’s hair, making him face Loki. “Your kind was made to be ruled.” He hissed. “You cannot win, mortal.” 

“Why don’t you just kill me then, huh? Because I’m not going to tell you anything, Princess. You can count on that,” the other spat back. Loki laughed at the mortal’s overconfidence. 

“I will not kill you, you useless creature, at least not yet.” He smirked. He should flay the skin from this pest’s bones as slowly as he could to make his point. This would require time however, and time was not a commodity he wished to spend on this man.

If his knives alone were not enough, he would spell the other’s nerves to simply be more receptive to the pain. He muttered the spell under his breath and a shocked gasp escaped the mortal. The wounds Loki had inflicted just a little earlier would surely be burning now. He held the bloody blade in front of the man’s face, his fingers still threaded through the other’s short brown hair.

“How about we try this again. My next actions will not be nearly as… pleasant.” He made a quick and shallow cut just below the mortal’s jaw to illustrate his point. 

“Go fuck yourself, Reindeer Games.” The words were practically spat in his face. Loki’s gaze hardened and he pressed the mortal’s head back against the bed, sticking the knife between the man’s ribs so that it would hurt, but not necessarily be lethal. 

A now anguished groan came from his captive. Excellent. There was no way the man would be able to keep this up for long. He pulled the blade back slowly and twisted it slightly, eliciting a sheen of sweat across the man’s brow. 

When the blade had slid free entirely, he grabbed the man’s right arm and cut off a patch of skin on his inner arm. With the spell in place, Loki could roughly estimate how painful this must be and gripped the man’s arm where the skin was now missing. Tears formed in his eyes and Loki gripped a little harder.

“You will tell me everything that you know,” he growled, his nails digging into the other’s soft skin.

“I’m not going to tell you a damn thing,” the man grit out, but he was shaking now, his body’s actions contradicting the man’s words. Loki could not help but be unpleasantly surprised by this man’s show of will power No Midgardian had ever withstood Loki as long as this man had, even if he was close to breaking now. He did not wish to cause this man bodily harm any longer; it was a waste of his precious time after all.

“I will not tolerate your insolence, mortal,” Loki retorted as he backhanded the man. “If physical pain does not faze you, then there are other ways to make you speak.” An unpleasant smile had crawled onto his face again. 

There were indeed many ways to make one speak and over the course of his life, Loki had found this out the hard way. While he had not been mistreated as such, he was no Thor and the others could not always appreciate his pranks as they grew more… severe over time. He was an adept liar and more than once some of these ways had been used to make the truth spill from his own lips. Some of those methods had been painful, others less so.

This meant that now, Loki had a few options. He could feed the mortal water from a well that forced the drinker to speak the truth for exactly one day and one night. He had found that this was a little used method, as gaining knowledge was not one of the Aesir’s highest priorities. Another method that would be suited to the situation required Loki to use a spell. It would be hard, especially if he were to be interrupted during the casting of it, but with it he could have the man speak the truth in his presence at all times by uttering only a few specific words.

It would be extremely difficult to acquire more of the well water; the spell however, required little to cast. Loki moved to the door and banged a fist against it twice. One of the guards that had been stationed outside opened the door.

“I do not wish to be disturbed. I shall let you know when I am ready to leave. Disturb me and I will have your head.” Loki’s commands were clipped and he waved away the guard with a dismissive hand. 

He turned back to the mortal, who was still lying on the bed and smirked. “If you do not wish to tell me the truth, I will just have to force you to speak by using other means.” He moved closer to the other and this time drew out a different blade. This one was not curved and it was smaller than the other one, more similar to a throwing knife than anything else. 

“Aren’t we the happy little sadist. You going to cut me some more like the tough guy you are, huh?” The mortal commented from the other side of the room. Loki bared his teeth at him in a toothy grin. He should punish the other some more for his insolence, but forcing the man to actually speak was more of a punishment than physical pain would ever be.

“Oh, this blade is not for you, mortal. Not directly.” He took the knife and slid it slowly across the palm of his left hand, blood now slowly pooling there. “As I have said before, there are more ways to make one speak. You will bare your soul to me and I will know your every fear, deepest desires, hopes and dreams, and I shall use them as I see fit.” 

Loki had moved up to the man’s side again while he had been speaking and now wiped the bloodied metal of the knife on his tunic. He put the small blade away again, now careful to not spill any of the blood. He dipped a finger into it and muttered a simple spell of restraint, keeping the mortal in place. 

As soon as started the spell, the man would lose his ability to speak for the duration of the casting, making it impossible for him to ruin the spell.

He brought his bloodied finger up to the mortal’s forehead and slowly began chanting as he drew the first rune onto the man’s skin. A green glow emanated from the now finished sigil for a moment and sparks in that same color cascaded across Loki’s own skin as the bloody rune sank into the mortal’s skin, only to leave a temporary mark. The connection had been made, the first gate had opened and for the time being, this man was now effectively bound to him.

He continued chanting, again dipping his finger in the blood, now marking the man’s right hand with another rune. Again the blood sank into the other’s skin, this time green sparks jumped from Loki’s hand to the other’s. The sparks did not fade as they started an elaborate dance along the man’s arm, only going as far as his shoulder before leaping back. 

The words were flowing from his mouth, as though he had said them a million times before, as he repeated the process with the mortal’s left hand. It was not often that he had to resort to such measures and spells as these, spells with the effects that would be noticeable for longer periods of time, and they left one drained for a while. He would have to rest after the casting, but the results would surely be worth it. 

He removed the mortal’s shoes in two simple movements before drawing the sigils on his feet. The man had been looking a little wide-eyed ever since Loki had started the spell and this amused him greatly. It was obvious to see that this man had never dealt with magic before and especially not in such a way. The green sparks leapt across his skin and onto the mortal’s again, only to disappear under the fabric of the man’s pants. 

Now with five gates open, the hardest part was yet to come. With the mortal’s mind and actions bound to Loki, all that remained was his heart. To those foolish females that were utterly inappropriately obsessed with romantic notions, it would sound as though Loki might force the other to have a romantic interest in him. Nothing could be further from the truth however; with the mortals’ heart bound to him, as well as his actions and mind, he would be entirely unable to speak lies in Loki’s presence for as long as the spell lasted. Depending on the caster and the subject, this could take anywhere from a regular Midgardian week to a full few Midgardian months. 

If the subject was strong enough of will, the binding of the heart could become a struggle for dominance. Had the mortal possessed any magic of his own, he might have been able to use this to his advantage; if Loki lost control during the struggle and the other won, he would become the one bound instead. The chance of this actually occurring was so infinitesimally small that he was not at all worried over this. It would however, leave him more exhausted than originally expected. This would not matter though, as one more day needed to recuperate was not much of a loss.

He dipped his finger in the blood one last time, the words now flowing from his lips feeling just as sticky as the blood congealing on his skin. The skin he would have drawn the next sigils on had been replaced by that broken device and Loki had to work around it, painting the runes close to those of his other spell. He ensured that they did not overlap; the consequences of an overlap in spells might be dire and he was not one to taunt fate… well, he was not one to taunt fate too often. Now would not be a good time.

As Loki painted more runes onto the man’s skin, the sparks jumping from his hand turned into miniature bolts of lightning coursing across the other’s skin and they grew fiercer with each completed sigil. He could feel the shift in the mortal’s energy as the flow slowed and Loki could feel the final gate opening at a maddeningly slow pace. The sparks that were dancing around the sigils he had already painted were now leaping and swirling towards the mortal’s chest, ready to connect all the sigils and thus, the gates. He could already feel some of the man’s essence creep underneath his own skin, connecting them, and he could not help but gasp slightly at the sensation. 

He had never had the need to perform this particular spell on a mortal before, but straight away he was able to tell that this man was not quite like his peers; the crackle of energy was different, and what was that? It felt as though the other was pushing back and Loki’s eyes shot up to look at the mortal’s. A defiant glare had now replaced the wide-eyed, uncertain look from earlier and for a moment Loki wondered if he had underestimated this man’s will to fight. It would matter not however; Loki would succeed and this man would speak the truth, whether he wanted to or not.

He could feel the other struggle, the flow of energy, the mortal’s essence, almost halted as if the man was trying to pull back. Loki clung to what the other was already sharing and pulled at what the man refused to give. The lightning was now crackling around the two of them, a storm, small in scale but strong in power, confined to them and this room, that gained in strength as their struggle for dominance continued.

He felt the mortal attempt to pull away still but soon the struggle ceased, as though the man had decided that this battle was futile. After a moment Loki thought he had won as the storm around them seemed to subside. Just as he was about to pull away, certain of his victory, he felt a sensation, a rush of power; it was as though the man’s energy was now flowing under his skin. The feeling was painful for it felt as if a fire was licking underneath his skin, making its way to the core of his being, to his heart. He gasped at the painful sensation and watched as the lightning slowly changed color from green to blue, the two colors now dancing around them side by side.

The chants were still pouring from his lips but the words became harder to form as the other crept closer to all that he was. His anger flared again at that moment. How could such a lowly mortal do as he was doing? He was Loki Odinson, prince of Asgard, the realm eternal. This man should be kneeling before him like the ant he was, for it was Loki’s right. The other was not worthy of opposing him. He pushed back with all his might, his breathing becoming labored with the effort of maintaining the spell as well as pushing the mortal away. 

What should have been a brief moment of their energies touching had now become something else entirely as their essences intertwined, binding them together in a way Loki could not have anticipated. The mortal gasped, his ragged breathing in perfect unison with Loki's, clearly feeling the demigod at the core of his being.

Where the lighting had struck at random beforehand, it was now moving in a circle around them, only striking the mortal’s skin at his head and heart, where the most important sigils had been drawn. Loki was certain that this was true for himself as well. He knew he had to pull back and push the other’s energy away and back into the other, no matter what the cost, lest he lose himself in the other’s being.

The feeling of the man’s most admirable and loathsome traits flowed through him, creeping under his skin in a way that felt far too personal and he pushed at the man’s mind with all that he had. Very slowly he could see the storm around them change color again, turning greener every passing moment. The blue did not disappear entirely though, as random bolts still struck here and there.

When their energies disentangled, the storm that raged around them subsided. Loki could feel himself become his own being again as he pushed the other further and further until once again his body and being was his own again. He was panting by now, hands clenched into fists that held onto the covers of the man’s bed, white knuckled. The mortal was no better off than himself; his breath was coming in short, quick puffs and Loki could see that all the color had drained from his face as he likely struggled with what had just occurred. 

He could feel himself shaking, exhausted with the effort of the casting as well as the struggle. Their fight for dominance had felt as though it had lasted for hours, or perhaps even days, but he knew that not even a half an hour could have passed. He steadied himself and looked at the man’s chest. The runes which should have etched themselves onto the other’s skin were not as they should have been. Instead of being a deep, dark green, the color was almost faded in parts. No, they were not merely faded; they were broken as though half of the runes were missing and this was not something Loki had ever encountered before.

His fists finally unclenched from the scratchy sheets and he pulled back, standing up slowly. He could not remember when he had stooped over, but it was likely that this had happened when the other tried to overtake him. 

“I will be back, mortal, and when I am, you shall spill the truth.” If he could have, he would have questioned the man at that very moment, but his body would not be able to handle the strain. He glared at the mortal one last time for good measure before turning around and moving over to the door at a sedate pace. 

“Yeah right. You wish, Princess.” The mortal’s words were still defiant though he sounded tired. Loki did not dignify the man’s remark with a response however, only speaking again when he reached the door.

“Guard, open the door.” Obediently the door was opened and Loki straightened himself a little, striding out regally as though his spell had not just gone awry and the mortal man had not nearly been able to reverse their positions as caster and intended. 

The walk back to his chambers was slow and he let his mind wander for the duration of it. The sensation of that fire burning just under his skin seemed to be at the forefront of his tired mind the most. He had never felt such a strong will before, especially not with a creature as frail and mortal as a Midgardian. He was glad to reach his destination as rest was now much needed for both his body and mind. 

He tried to clear his mind as he closed the door behind him, not wishing to think of that damned creature any longer. Ordinarily he would have used his magic to rid himself of his armor and clothing, but that was not an option now. He felt that this was not something he could spare any magic on, and started undoing the clasps of his shoulder pieces by hand. 

Loki stacked his clothes neatly on a low bench, a mirror hanging above it, and soon he was down to his pants and shirt. He removed the shirt, folding it slowly and placing it on the stack of clothes he had already taken off. As he straightened he looked at the mirror, a pale, tired looking creature staring back at him. It took Loki a moment to realize that something was not quite right and then another moment to realize precisely what it was that was amiss. 

A string of broken runes had formed on his chest, as though they had been inked onto his skin in a blue similar to the lighting that had raged around the mortal’s room not a mere hour before. He traced his fingers over the sigils slowly, the situation now fully sinking in. A growl and a cry of rage broke free from the back of his throat as all his anger came flooding back. This mortal would pay for his actions. He would pay dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beta pointed out to me that a tunic and a shirt, which was what Tony was wearing, was kind of weird. I imagined it to be something similar to this: http://www.denmarkemb.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Viking-Tunic-668x1024.jpg


	5. Indefinite Hiatus

Due to circumstances such as college and some things happening in the family, I've decided to put the fic on hold for a while. I know I haven't been getting back to you all and I'm sorry for that, which is why I'm now officially putting it on halt instead of you guys just having to sit and wonder if I'll ever finish this.

I have the full intention of finishing this, but I cannot tell you when I will have the time to actually properly write again. 

I'm sorry guys. I hope you'll return to read once I'm writing for NYDR again. <3

 

\- Ragnild

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help but see Tony end up on Asgard after that thing with the arc reactor in Iron man 1, so I had to go and write about it. I have no idea how long it'll be though.


End file.
